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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28750245">Five Left</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/OneBlueUmbrella'>OneBlueUmbrella (bigblueboxat221b)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Angst, Angst and Feels, David POV, Drug Use, M/M, Recreational Drug Use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:41:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28750245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/OneBlueUmbrella</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>David only has one way to deal with a difficult day: pop a pill, cry a bit, early to bed. This has always worked - but his supply of pills is depleted and with five left, how will he cope when they're gone?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello my dears, I'm trying something new here. A series of short scenes, probably one per day until we're done. Let's see how it goes together, shall we?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David’s head was pounding. What the fuck was in the weed he and Stevie found under the bed? He needed to get some sleep so his body could get rid of whatever else had been in that joint. It was bad enough he’d walked all the way into town to hang out in the store – <em>his</em> store – like a jackass, but all those voicemails he’d left Patrick were nothing short of mortifying. And to add insult to injury, his form was basically screwed after all his corrections and changes of mind so there was no way of avoiding seeing Patrick the same day.</p><p>Somehow the nice, bland looking guy in a boring button-down shirt had enough snark in him to keep David’s mind returning. His tone was mild most of the time, belying the bite of his words. Annoying as it might be, he held David’s interest and in any other scenario, David would have asked for his number. Here though, his self-esteem was more or less in the toilet, and the further he ventured into this store idea the less certain he was it was a good move for him. The last thing he needed was rejection from the straightest guy in this very small Ontario town.</p><p>David groaned, holding his head in his hands for a second before fumbling in his pillowcase. The bottle he’d relied on so heavily for so long was almost empty now. Rationing it had been essential, but the idea of having none of these left to escape a terrible day made him deeply uncomfortable. There was something there about his lack of ability to deal with the difficulties of his life, but the therapist who’d said it was far enough in time and distance for him to ignore her for the second time.</p><p>The discomfort wasn't enough to avoid swallowing one of the pills down, though. Knowing he had maybe seven minutes before he passed out and wishing he’d remembered to do his skincare first, David counted as the pills tipped back into the bottle.</p><p>
  <em>Five left…</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David didn’t always have a specific reason to need a pill to help him sleep. Heck, he used to down a couple a night when he wasn’t already high (and sometimes when he was). The fact that one worked to knock him out was a bit of a miracle in itself, and he didn’t want to waste his dwindling stash.</p><p>But there were days when everything reminded him of Before, and not in a way he could brush off. It was as though his mind’s security was distracted, and the same details he saw every day just sneaked in through the service entrance while someone flashed the bouncer.</p><p>A familiar face on social media.</p><p>The fact he couldn’t afford the incredibly discounted mint condition Givinchy sweater someone was selling on eBay.</p><p>One small line on his face which would not be taken care of by his personal skin consultant.</p><p>The way nobody noticed if he stayed in bed all day.</p><p>This last was the worst. Even when it was just people fawning over him, wanting money, or connections, or sex, at least they knew he was there. They didn’t want the real David, but he’d learned to accept the superficial attention as the best he was likely to get. Now there were days he yearned for that, his insides churning with need for just one person to pay him any attention.</p><p>It wasn’t a waste to escape those days. David refused to allow himself to feel guilty, even when the small number of remaining pills tipped back into the jar.</p><p>
  <em>Four left…</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David was somewhere between furious and revolted. He had no idea what the right word was, not that it mattered. Both emotions were directed at himself so finding the best way to describe them didn’t really matter. He experienced them directly, hot and sharp and unadulterated as his night with Sebastien Raine played over and over in his mind. It was all for a good cause, of course; his mother’s desperation to return to their former life would have made her an easy target for someone as opportunistic and heartless as Sebastien. And much as he would have preferred a less intimate form of distraction, David had to admit that allowing himself to be seduced by Sebastien wasn’t the worst thing he’d done, sexually speaking. Sebastien was so determined to ‘be good’ to David (his words, not David’s) that their exploits took a predictable turn and David was done within an hour. The remaining time was spent trapped under Sebastien's arm, enduring the snores that marked his chemically induced sleep.</p><p>
  <em>Thank God he’s so selfish.</em>
</p><p>The slimy feeling from having that creep’s mouth on him again would take considerably longer to forget. As David lay in his bed, wishing the Earth would rotate faster just this once so the sun would stop streaming in on his face, he wondered how he’d ever thought Sebastien was a generous lover. Determined to pull an orgasm out of his partner, then claim one for his own, Sebastien barely spoke while fucking. David couldn’t remember ever being asked what he liked, let alone told he was attractive in any way.</p><p>He’d told his mother it wasn’t just for her.</p><p>But it was.</p><p>“Urgh,” David muttered.</p><p>There was no way of getting out of it, and he closed his eyes as fingers scrabbled under his pillow. He couldn’t see how many pills were left, but he was fairly sure his count was accurate.</p><p>
  <em>Three left…</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well if you won’t talk about Patrick, we might as well get some sleep,” Stevie said, folding her hands over the duvet.</p><p>“Fine,” David replied. He knew he was being a bit of an arse, but he didn’t really care. They were both staring at the ceiling and there was no way he was getting close to sleep right now. Not with Stevie’s words circling through his head.</p><p>
  <em>He’s a pretty eligible bachelor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You guys just seem to really get along well.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why are you here and not there...why are you here and not there…why are you here and not there…</em>
</p><p>Even without looking he could hear Stevie’s wide smirk.</p><p>“What?” he said finally.</p><p>“I was assuming you’d bring some of the good stuff,” Stevie said, her voice the epitome of innocent.</p><p>This time David turned, her expression exactly as he’d pictured. “What good stuff would you be referring to?” he asked, refusing to admit the pills were the first thing he’d packed.</p><p>“Um, I’m pretty sure your weeknight routine includes a little something to help you sleep,” Stevie said. When he didn’t reply, she said, “Oh come on, we both know you haven’t ‘learned to live’ with your sister’s snoring.”</p><p>“I told you that in confidence,” David said, irritated not only that she’d remembered, but that his lie had been so transparent.</p><p>Stevie snorted. “Come on, hand it over.”</p><p>David huffed a sigh. “I didn’t bring it,” he said. He kind of hated how she could read him, but he refused to give in enough to share the last of his stash. “Not that it exists,” he added defiantly.</p><p>“Fine,” Stevie said. “But if your obsessive thinking keeps me awake, you’re buying coffee in the morning.”</p><p>David huffed, which was all the response he was willing to give.</p><p>+++</p><p>The following night David stared at the white pills on his palm. He should be tired enough to fall asleep, but the amount of quad-shot coffee he’d been forced to drink just to get through the day meant his blood was practically tap dancing through his veins.</p><p>Closing his eyes, David took a deep breath. He could see Patrick holding in the amusement as he realised David was wearing his shower cap despite Stevie having checked his hair. In the moment he’d been too freaked out about the possibility of his hair housing any of Alexis’ revolting lice, but in retrospect David wondered if there was more.</p><p>
  <em>Fondness?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Affection, even…</em>
</p><p>Nope.</p><p>With a sudden jerk, David threw a pill into his mouth. He had no idea how to deal with the possibility of Patrick – his nice, respectable <em>business partner</em> – being into him. He dry swallowed the pill, very aware of what remained in the bottle.</p><p>
  <em>Two left…</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was hours since Patrick’s arms had loosened from David’s body, yet he could still feel the pressure winding around his torso. The hug was unexpected; Patrick wasn’t the most tactile guy and David rarely touched people if he could avoid it. But when Patrick met his eyes in the calm disarray of the store after their opening party, David could feel the thread pulling them together more tightly than it had.</p><p>He swallowed.</p><p>Patrick’s arms opened as he pushed off the bench, holding his arms out. His eyes were still locked on David’s. “Congratulations, man,” he murmured.</p><p>David hesitated. <em>Man?</em> That was weird, right? But Patrick was walking towards him, and David couldn’t stop himself moving forward. Patrick was solid, a detail David never managed to imagine quite right in the fantasies he never told anyone about. He pulled David in close, reaching up to stretch his chin over David’s shoulder before doing what David considered the ‘bro-hug’, patting David a little too hard to be comfortable. David followed suit, but couldn’t resist allowing his hands to slide a little, mapping that small area of Patrick’s back.</p><p>
  <em>Thank God he can’t see me smiling.</em>
</p><p>The hug was just easing past the point at which it wouldn’t mean anything when the lights flickered. Patrick froze; instead of letting David go he spoke, still holding their bodies together. For a second the words reverberated through David and he was torn between panicking about the electrical work and enjoying having Patrick so close.</p><p>The ghost of that hug had followed David around the store as he and Patrick worked to clean up. David wasn’t avoiding Patrick’s eyes, he told himself; it was very important the labels on their skincare faced the front, so of course he was paying attention to what he was doing. Patrick moved around humming tunelessly as he cleaned away the debris of the party.</p><p>
  <em>Stop.</em>
</p><p>David pulled himself out of his head. He wasn’t going to relive it all again – the brush as they slid past each other, the slight smile he saw as Patrick reached out to correct the angle of a jar.</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>Alexis was just heading into the bathroom; this was his chance. Thank God he could swallow the pill dry.</p><p>
  <em>One left…</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Zero</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Clearly I miscounted when describing this as a '5 + 1' but I wrote all the scenes before I realised and I like them.</p><p>Hence, '5-oops-I-mean-6 + 1'.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David froze.</p><p>“Alexis, what are you doing?” He could hear his voice rising as he crossed his arms.</p><p>Alexis barely glanced at him as she rearranged his pillow. “Relax, David,” she said in that infuriatingly impatient way she always did when someone wanted an explanation for her actions.</p><p>“Relax?” he repeated. “How can I relax when you’re spreading your scent all over my pillow?”</p><p>“Urgh,” she grunted, rolling her eyes. “I just needed to borrow something, that’s all.”</p><p>“What are you borrowing that’s under my…Alexis!”</p><p>“What, David?” she cried. “Look, I just had a really weird conversation with Ted, and I’ll never get to sleep on my own.”</p><p>David stared, speechless as she tossed the empty bottle at him. It hit his outstretched hand and bounced off. There was no tell tale rattle, and he watched it roll to a stop next to one of Alexis’ discarded shirts.</p><p>“Maybe you should get me a bottle next time you stop at the pharmacy,” she said over her shoulder, settling into bed.</p><p>“Next time? Next time?” David said. He could feel agitation dancing up his biceps; waving his hands around never really helped a lot but the habit was strong. “There is no next time, Alexis! That was my last bottle!”</p><p>“Come on, David, it can’t be like, your last bottle,” Alexis said. “Just tell the doctor you’re having trouble sleeping.”</p><p>“You tell the doctor you’re having trouble sleeping,” David retorted. “You and I both know this was not exactly a legal prescription!”</p><p>She stared at him for a second as though understanding his words. “Whatever, David,” she said. “You’ll find more.”</p><p>To his outrage, she snuggled down into her pillow. He knew it wouldn’t be long until she drifted off; she’d been as clean as he since they arrived here, and if one pill worked quickly on him it would work even faster on her slimmer frame.</p><p>The silence hung around him for a moment until he finally bent down to pick up the empty bottle. David sat on the end of his bed, staring at the white plastic. It was so much trash now. He’d been counting down and this last pill had taken on a level of importance he hadn’t even realised. It was unsurprising Alexis had helped herself, and he wondered if she was sorry. It was unlikely she knew how important it was, and it was all moot anyway.</p><p>With a deep breath, David made himself frame the thought he’d been avoiding.</p><p>
  <em>Zero left...</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. An alternative prescription</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ah, do you have any plans for today, or…”</p><p>David forced a light tone as he answered automatically. “I plan on popping a pill, crying a bit, and falling asleep early.”</p><p>As Patrick nodded, David winced, realising his go-to solution was no longer an option. He continued the conversation, cursing his sister and her inability to get Ted to let her take some animal tranquillisers. It was the least she could do, and for someone who could belly-dance their way out of a literal flogging in the Middle East, she was putting a sub-par effort into resolving this issue.</p><p>Before he knew it, he’d agreed to have his birthday dinner with Patrick at the Café.</p><p>What the hell did that mean?</p><p>At least it would be a distraction from the dumpster fire that was his life.</p><p>+++</p><p>“Good night, Patrick.”</p><p>David was used to knowing he wouldn’t sleep. He was used to the feeling of his mind racing, how it would make his heart refuse to slow enough for him to fall into slumber. He was not used to it being because he’d missed an opportunity. Why hadn’t he kissed Patrick? All the signs said <em>Yes, he’ll kiss you back</em> but he just couldn’t force himself to lean in that first little bit, to signal his intentions. When he came in, Alexis’ sweet little birthday gift was enough to make him smile, but his brain was still skittering around. He hardly engaged with his sister or parents – were they <em>singing</em> to him? – and when he could finally beg off and retire to the bathroom, he was just relieved none of his skincare products had run out. He took long enough on his ablutions to give his parents the hint and when he emerged only Alexis was waiting for him.</p><p>“Finally, David,” she murmured, slipping past him into the bathroom.</p><p>A rare moment of solitude. Perhaps he could quiet his mind after all.</p><p>But it wasn’t solitude. Not really. Not with the murmur of his parents in the next room and water in the bathroom running. The low background susurrus marked time until Alexis came back. It was nothing like the real solitude David had always hated and avoided at all costs. Now he was desperate for a few hours, a few minutes even, and it was clear he wouldn’t get it here.</p><p>Without thinking too hard, David grabbed his keys and walked out.</p><p>He had no idea where he was going, but the clean air already helped. It was never truly warm in their hotel room, but the fact he and Alexis both used a lot of products to maintain their bodies meant the air was rarely fresh, either. As he walked along the road into town, the slow crunch of gravel under his feet was soothing. David felt himself slowing so his footsteps would be closer to the rhythm he knew would ease his nervous mind. Everything would be deserted, but he could sit on the step of the Café at least, and the storefront would keep him company.</p><p>That plan wasn’t quite going to work.</p><p>As David came around the bend into town, something wasn’t quite right. It was nowhere near as dark as it should be; light spilled onto the road, picking out the letters of the Café Tropical. There was only one source of light that could be responsible…</p><p>Sure enough, lights were on in the Apothecary. David stopped, blinking at the sight. Patrick’s car was parked out front; it was illegal, but at this time of night in Schitt’s Creek nobody was going to care. He must have dropped David home then come right back, David realised. As he watched, Patrick emerged from the storeroom, a box in his arms. He seemed to be moving automatically, setting out the candles with a care that made David smile. He knew he’d been fussy when they opened, but it was important people felt like the people who owned the store valued their stock and their clients.</p><p>Without meaning to, David remembered Patrick’s face the first time he’d explained that, turning each candle so the label was facing the front, glancing over. Patrick had been leaning against the centre table, his arms crossed and that same little smile dancing around his face as his eyes studied David’s face. When he finally stopped, David braced for Patrick’s response. Surely he’d be dismissive, or belittling or something.</p><p>“Okay, David,” Patrick had replied, taking the rest of the candles and facing them exactly as David had asked him to. No big deal, no eyes rolling or huffy bad mood. Just agreeing and changing what he was doing, because David had asked him to.</p><p>
  <em>Why did he do that?</em>
</p><p>It was suddenly a very important question. David crossed the street, hoping he wouldn’t freak Patrick out too much when he came into the store. He deliberately tapped on the glass before turning his key, meeting Patrick’s startled gaze before carefully opening the door.</p><p>“Hey,” he said quietly.</p><p>“Hey,” Patrick replied. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”</p><p>“Nor did I,” David said. When Patrick continued to wait, he added, “I just needed some space. From my family.”</p><p>“Ah,” Patrick said. “Me too. From Ray.” He flicked his eyes away and back. “He can be full on.”</p><p>“He can,” David agreed. He paused. “Hey, I was just wondering,” he asked, knowing how not-casual it already sounded, “do you remember the candles?”</p><p>“These candles?” Patrick asked. He was still unpacking a box and he lifted one out.</p><p>“Yeah,” David said. He had no idea how he was going to phrase this. Plastering a big smile on his face, he felt his hands start the wide gesturing which marked his nerves. “Well, the first day we were unpacking, I asked you to face the labels.”</p><p>“You did,” Patrick said. His expression relaxed, and the gentle patience appeared in the crinkling of his eyes. It was his <em>I don’t know where you’re going with this but take your time</em> expression. David was very familiar with it, come to think of it.<br/>“And I explained why it was important, for brand recognition and a sense of-”</p><p>“Care in our presentation, for both vendors and customers,” Patrick said with him, nodding. “I remember,” he added unnecessarily.</p><p>“How did you remember that?” David whispered.</p><p>Patrick shrugged, looking back into the box to replace the candle. “I just…did,” he said.</p><p>David nodded. There was more there but he had to focus. “Why did you do it?” he asked.</p><p>“What, change how I was setting out the candles?” Patrick asked.</p><p>David nodded, biting his lips between his teeth. His arms were suddenly long and awkward – why were they just hanging there, surely that was ridiculous – so he crossed them, pulling tight against his ribs as he waited for Patrick to reply.</p><p>“I guess,” Patrick considered, “I could see it was important to you. And I’d never really thought about it, so,” he shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard to change, so I did.”</p><p>David stared. “Okay,” he said. It wasn’t quite what he’d been asking but he didn’t know how to say what he was really thinking without sounding like the neediest human since Paris Hilton did that ridiculous special.</p><p>Patrick’s eyes had narrowed, and he stepped around the box of candles. He was only a few steps in front of David now, and his eyes were concentrating hard on David’s. “Why did you want to know, David?” he asked.</p><p>“I just,” David started, cringing at his own stumbling words. “I don’t understand why it would be important to you, just because it was important to me.”</p><p>Patrick nodded. “I know you’re not used to the idea of someone being nice to you,” he said quietly, “but I’d like to make you happy. If I can.”</p><p>“By facing the candles,” David said, the snarky response coming automatically. The words were still hanging in the air when he felt his face crumble into a wince. “That was harsher than I intended,” he said, hoping his apologetic tone would be enough.</p><p>“Yes, by facing the candles,” Patrick said, and he took a deep breath and a step forward at the same time. “Your happiness is important to me, David.”</p><p>
  <em>Holy shit.</em>
</p><p>David nodded. Patrick’s courage seeded something in him, and he reaped his own bravery with the rush of words, “Steviethoughttonightwasadate.”</p><p>He watched Patrick blink, separating the slew of sounds into coherent words.</p><p>
  <em>Stevie thought tonight was a date.</em>
</p><p>“It was,” Patrick said quietly.</p><p>David felt his mouth drop open. “Oh,” he replied. Before his brain could be involved in the decision, his mouth blurted, “I didn’t kiss you.”</p><p>Patrick’s eyebrows rose. “No,” he said. “You didn’t.”</p><p>Hesitantly, David stepped forward. He was close enough to reach out, if he had the courage;  Patrick’s face was awash with surprise and fear and – to David’s astonishment – desire.</p><p>Another bloom of courage, and he asked, “Can I kiss you now?”</p><p>Patrick nodded, eyes flicking to David’s mouth. “I wish you would,” he whispered.</p><p>David’s heart turned over, and he tried to hold Patrick’s eyes for as long as possible. One hand along Patrick’s jaw, the stubble rasping over his palm; he was gentle so his rings didn’t catch. A thrill marked the moment his lips met Patrick’s, slow and heavy as it wound down through his belly. He heard Patrick’s breath catch, and it might have been the firm press of their mouths, certainly more confident than David had planned. Patrick was chasing it too, so the gentle settle David was aiming for became something bordering on desperate for the brief few seconds it existed.</p><p>As they separated, both breathed deeply, still centimetres from each other in the quiet of the store.</p><p>Eyes still closed, David smiled.</p><p>Something in his soul loosened, and he knew he would sleep well tonight.</p>
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